THE BILLIONAIRE’S EX-WIFE IS A RENOWNED SURGEON.

Today was my birthday, no, it was past midnight, my birthday had already passed, and on the first day of my twenty sixth year, my husband filed for divorce. I swallowed hard as I stood from the pavement in the dining room that I had been sitting on for the past thirty minutes and then moved to the living room. I opened the refrigerator, brought out the box of cake that I had pre ordered just two days ago, dropped it on the table, and then lit the candle on it. I had actually expected something different. A better birthday, at least. I had so much hope for it. Even though I had a busy schedule, I still tried my best to get my cake ordered and some ornaments. When Nicholas suddenly called me just after I finished assisting in a surgery earlier today– no, yesterday that he would love for us to talk, I had gotten my hopes raised high. “I don’t know when I am gonna get off work. I think…” “I will wait till you are back,” he had cut me short and then ended the call. So, that was it. That was the reason he had called me for the first time since… forever. That was the reason he had insisted on waiting for me, even though I could count the number of times he had been in our supposed matrimonial home. A divorce. When I first entered the living room about thirty minutes past eleven PM, I was in a bit of awe as I realized that the lights were still on. I was used to returning back home to darkness every time I returned from work. Honestly, I hadn’t believed that he would wait around till I was done at the hospital so, realizing that he was indeed waiting for me made my heart to beat in excitement. I had thought that he didn’t forget my birthday and had stayed up until I arrived just to celebrate it with me. I was already happy that for the first time since we’ve been married, he would be celebrating my birthday with me. When I entered the dining room he was sitting in, I almost choked at the smell of the cigar that rushed me. He had been smoking, and the ashes and burnt cigars in the ashtray were proof. “I… I am sorry I kept you waiting. There was an accident near the hospital so the emergency rooms were so packed and…” “Let’s divorce,” he cut me short, his eyes so blank like he had no life left in him. “Nicho,” stunned, I entered the room fully, dropped my bag on the table and then chuckled dryly. “The ER was really packed. I didn’t mean to keep you up so late.” He picked up the brown envelope I almost didn’t know was lying on the table, flung it in my direction, and then continued, “This is the divorce agreement. You can ask for anything in the alimony. I am not going to treat you unfairly.” “Nicho— Nicholas, wait. Are you still pissed because I came late? I was really…” “Melanie, it is high time we stop pretending this marriage is consensual, don’t you think?” He cut me short again. It was true that the marriage arrangement between our families was one Nicholas had never hoped for. He never hid his dislike for our union right from the beginning, but I believed I could change that. Nicho and I had known each other all our lives, and I thought I knew him till I married him. “B… but…” “W—why?” My voice broke as I tried to sniff back the tears that were threatening to fall. He stood up, ran his hand through his hair, and then breathed out, “It’s time you woke up, Melanie. Don’t you think?” “B… but, Nicholas, I…” “The house will be yours after the divorce, so you don’t need to move out. Plus, I don’t want any news of this to get out after the divorce. We need to be more distant than ever. You understand?” “W… what?” I stuttered again. His phone rang at that moment and I watched him removed it from his pocket, glanced at his wrist watch after confirming the caller and then sighed, “I have something else to attend to. My lawyer will contact you tomorrow.” With that, I had watched my husband walk out of the room, leaving me alone in the empty room with my wobbly legs. When we were just married, Nicholas made it very clear to me that we would never give our families the satisfaction they hoped for. Kids. Without caring what I wanted, he made it known to me that he had no intention of having kids with me, and that he had no choice but to be my husband just because of the pressure from his family. He never failed to remind me that I was not his choice, and even without telling me whom his choice was, I knew. Amara. He had unconsciously stated in anger when we both were planning to be wedded that he would have been getting married to someone else if our families had not imposed such ‘bullshit’ on us. And two months ago, during his father’s sixtieth birthday, he got drunk and we both had s*x— for the first time. Still, Nicholas refused to acknowledge the s*x and has claimed that he was so drunk that he couldn’t remember a thing. “You’re a doctor, right? So, you know how to solve this, don’t you?” “What are you…” I had asked him. “What happened between us last night should never have happened.” As if fearing that the one night stand would result in something serious. A kid, perhaps, Nicholas had made sure that I took birth control pills while he watched. With tears welling up in my eyes and my voice shaky, I leaned down, blew out the candle, and then said to myself. “Happy twenty sixth birthday.”